


The Rebirth of Brandon Wheeger

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Galaxy Quest (1999)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything that Brandon has ever wanted is right in front of him. And then it's gone. But he never stops trying to find it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rebirth of Brandon Wheeger

**Author's Note:**

> Wicked Wonder, thanks so much for letting me dive into the world of Galaxy Quest for a little while. I really enjoyed writing this. Also, thank you to furiosity for beta-reading and for answering last-minute grammar questions via text message.
> 
> Written for Wicked Wonder

 

 

\---

**_Part 1: Innocence_ **

\---

Everything that Brandon has ever wanted is right in front of him. The hull of the _Protector_ is brushed metal perfection. He runs his hands along the frame of the main hatch. This is _the ship_. It just crash-landed here _from space_.

"Hey, you're not allowed to be up there!" 

Brandon turns toward the voice, but keeps one hand on the frame. Severing the connection is unthinkable. A gangling man wearing a "Digitize me!" t-shirt is walking through the empty auditorium, forging a path through knocked-over folding chairs, his "TODD LITTLE / GalaxyCon Staff" badge flapping against his chest with each step. 

"You're _touching the ship_." He is almost to the edge of the stage now. "Do you know how much it costs to get a life-sized replica? I'm going to see that you're banned from GalaxyCon for life!"

"But--" begins Brandon.

"He's with me." 

Commander Taggart steps out from behind the curtain where he and Lieutenant Madison -- Gwen -- have been having a serious, whispered conversation. (Commander Taggart has told Brandon to call him "Jason" about a hundred times in the last twenty minutes, but Brandon can't do it. He's the Commander.)

Todd Little freezes with his mouth open, holding so still that he doesn't even blink. Brandon counts to five, wondering if the Commander has used some sort of stealth freeze-ray. But then Todd says, "I'msorrysirIdidn'tseeyouthere," turns around, and scurries in the other direction.

"Don't let it happen again!" says Commander Taggart. His voice is gruff but he's smiling. "Man, you vaporize one alien in front of a crowd and suddenly everyone's afraid of you!" He chuckles and looks at Brandon. 

Brandon can feel his smile widen, but he doesn't think he is any happier than he was a minute ago, because he is already as happy as it is possible for a person to be. 

"Shouldn't you be getting home now? Your parents must be worried."

The happy bubble inside of Brandon contracts at the thought of this moment ending. "Home? But... I thought I could go with you."

"With me? To Beverly Hills?" He looks back at Gwen, who is observing their conversation with her head tilted slightly to one side. "I kind of had other plans for tonight, if you know what I mean."

Brandon has no idea what he means. "No, not to your house. To the _Protector_. I mean, the main part of the ship's still up there, right? I thought I could... I was thinking I could join the crew. I know I won't be able to officially be a crew member until I graduate from the NSEA academy, but I--"

"Whoa, whoa. The NSEA academy? You know there's no such thing." The Commander is staring at him. Brandon tries to dig his fingertips into the hull but finds the metal unyielding.

"But you told me it was all real."

Commander Taggart looks at the floor. "It's not," he says. "I'm sorry. It's complicated."

Brandon turns away. He knows it's all real. It has to be.

\---

As they walk home from the bus stop, Katelyn skips up and down the sidewalk, ebullient over the conversation she had with Fred Kwan. It is dusk, and Brandon is walking quickly because he is late for dinner. 

"He was so nice, you guys! And you know his girlfriend, that lady who was with him? I'm convinced she's an alien." 

"Oh, please. We've had this discussion before," says Hollister, practically jogging to keep up with the pace of their longer legs. "The chances of an alien having a bipedal, humanoid form are on the order of one in ten billion."

Katelyn grins. "I know the odds." Her grin changes to something more devious. "Isn't it weird to, you know, think about them _doing stuff_? Sex stuff?"

Brandon trips, barely managing to stop himself from falling. He looks back but doesn't see any obvious flaws in the concrete. He shakes his head. "Their society is too enlightened for that kind of thing."

"Come on," says Kyle. "The Terrakian slave girl on Aberii Prime? And the one on Zarakan? Plus the Moon Princesses of Urake. And that's just the first season."

"That's the Commander. He's different. He's... he--" Brandon doesn't know the right word to describe the Commander. _Special_ , he wants to say, but he knows he will be mocked.

"You're in love with Commander Taggart," sings Katelyn.

Brandon frowns, puzzled. "I am not. It's called respect."

\---

**_Part 2: Denial_ **

\---

The fandom explodes at news of Galaxy Quest's resurrection. Brandon knows that "The Journey Continues" will bring them new stories, new characters, new details about the world. He knows he should be as excited as everyone else. But he's not. 

Three months ago he would have been overjoyed. But three months ago, he hadn't known the pure exhilaration of standing in a parking lot, using a real working Interstellar Vox to guide a ship into a manual landing. Three months ago, he hadn't felt the adrenaline of helping Commander Taggart -- the Commander! -- through the _Protector_ 's labyrinthine ducts before the self-destruct countdown reached zero. 

He can't quite work it out in his head. The show is not real. He knows that, because it is a television series, with scripts and producers and editors. But the world it is based on is real. The actors play the roles of space explorers, but they also are space explorers. He doesn't understand why they would pretend it's all fiction when it's not, why they would cover up what happened at GalaxyCon as an elaborate special effect. He spends hours every day searching online for some kind of answer. Everything he finds leads to only one conclusion: it's just a show. 

Everything except for one thing: he still has the Vox. 

He has taken to carrying it with him at all times, paranoid that someone might take it and leave him with no proof that he's not crazy. Every night before he goes to sleep, he holds the Vox at arm's length, willing a voice to emerge from its flickering interior. Some day, he is sure, Commander Taggart will call again. Brandon can't call him, of course, because one doesn't call a Commander on the Interstellar Vox just to chat. That's not how the chain of command works.

Brandon holds to that decision for more than a year. Then, halfway through the first episode of the second season, he decides that the chain of command can go to hell. They have just introduced a new enemy: a race of bloodthirsty reptilian humanoids with spiny protrusions from their shoulders. He has seen one before and heard Commander Taggart refer to it as an actual alien. He needs to call him because he needs the truth.

He waits until midnight, even though his mother has told him it's rude to call people after nine o'clock. The rules of society surely do not apply in space. He huddles under his blankets so his parents won't hear him. The crew of the _Protector_ smiles at him from his sheets, bathed in pulses of blue light.

"Commander Taggart," Brandon whispers. "Commander Taggart," he says again, louder this time. He waits for a count of ten. "Jason." The word feels strange and forbidden on his tongue. It reminds him of the time he said "damn" in church just as the congregation fell silent. "Hi, um, Jason, this is Brandon. Brandon Wheeger?" He counts to twenty this time but still there is no answer. 

He pulls the blankets even further up over his head and curls on his side, the closed Vox gripped in his hands, breathing in the same air over and over until he feels like he will suffocate. "He probably doesn't have it with him. He's probably out at a party," he whispers. "He--"

"Brandon?" The familiar voice is only slightly muffled by Brandon's hands. "You still there?" 

Brandon almost drops the device in his haste to flip the cover open. "Commander!" he shouts, and then winces because his parents probably heard that. His neighbors probably heard that.

"Hey, I told you to call me Jason. So what's up? Everything okay? You're not in trouble or anything, are you?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. I just--"

"Great! How's school?"

"Um. School? It's ... okay, I guess. I'm a senior and--"

"Good, good. And how are your parents?"

Brandon is puzzled by the rapid topic changes. "They're... fine." He pauses for a second, wondering how to bring up the subject of the show.

"Glad to hear it! Look, it's been great talking to you, but I'm kind of in the middle of something and-- What?" His voice gets softer, as if he has moved the Vox away from his face. "Come on, don't give me that look." There is a thump and indistinct muttering for a few moments before the Commander's voice resumes, loud and strong. "Sorry, Brandon, I'm back. Gwen says hello, by the way."

"Thanks," says Brandon. "I mean, hello, Gwen. So, Commander," he continues, deciding to jump right to his desired topic. "I watched 'The Eagle Has Three Wings' tonight, of course, and I found it quite fascinating. I--"

"So, you like the new show! Great! I'm really glad to hear it. Hey, you should come to the studio some time to watch us film an episode. Would you like that? You can meet the crew, get a tour..."

Brandon is speechless for a moment. "Wow. Yes. That would be--" 

"Okay, good! I'll add your name to the list or whatever. I don't know. One of the PAs will take care of it. Any time, just come by."

"Right. That sounds...." Brandon tries desperately to remember the day of his calculus test. "I think Thursday might work."

"Sure, sure, that will be great! Gotta go, Brandon. Bye." There is a soft click. "There, are you happy now? Now can we--" There is a louder click and the Vox falls silent.

Brandon is so thrilled at the prospect of visiting the set that he doesn't even mind that he didn't get to ask the Commander his question. Better yet, he realizes, he will now be able to ask it in person. 

_Perfect_ , he thinks.

\---

Dr. Lazarus storms onto the bridge of the NSEA _Protector_ wearing a kilt. "Commander, I would appreciate it if you-- what? He's not here either?" He frowns at the empty captain's chair. "I had the VR-deck programmed for a romp in eighteenth-century Scotland and he's nowhere to be found."

"What? But he was so looking forward to it!" says Lieutenant Madison. "Computer, locate Commander Taggart."

"Commander Taggart is not on board."

Madison stands. "He's not on the ship!"

Security Chief "Roc" Ingersol jumps up from his station. "What?" He whirls around and begins to hit a large button on the console over and over. "That's impossible. There's nothing on the surveillance system. One second he's here, and the next he's gone."

Tech Sergeant Chen, who is kneeling next to Laliari in front of an open access panel, looks up. "Someone must have tampered with the temporal circus. Circuits. Shit." Chen turns into Fred Kwan and grins. "Temporal circus. That's funny. It would have, what, time-traveling clowns?" 

On the other side of the room, Tommy Webber bursts into laughter.

"Cut!" A black-clad man walks onto the set. "Let's pick up the scene again starting with Alexander's entrance." 

Brandon leans forward from his seat beside the camera.

"Sorry, guys," says Fred.

Guy fires off a finger-gun at Fred. "Don't sweat it. It happens to the best of us."

Alexander mutters something under his breath that sounds like "if I have to say 'romp' one more time..." and stomps back through the doors.

Forty-five minutes later, the scene has been shot and re-shot and re-shot again, and finally the director seems satisfied. Brandon cautiously approaches the actors, who are standing around the captain's chair, talking quietly.

"Um. Do you guys know where Comman-- I mean, where Jason is?"

Gwen smiles at him. "Hi, Brandon. It's good to see you."

"Hey, you're that kid who helped us with the, you know, the thing that time," says Fred.

"Right. Um. Hello, everyone." Brandon brings his fist to his chest in the standard NSEA salute.

"You got taller," observes Guy. 

Alexander scratches at his leg. "If you're looking for Jason, he's next door." He scratches his leg again. "For God's sake, this is the roughest wool I have ever had the misfortune of wearing."

"Oh, he's shooting that scene in the slave quarters?" Fred seems pleased. "I can walk you over there, if you want."

"Yeah, that would be great," says Brandon.

Laliari inclines her head slightly. "Have a good time," she says, flashing her expansive smile at Brandon.

\---

"So, I was wondering," Brandon says as he and Fred walk to the next building. "Where exactly did you get the inspiration for Sarris? I can't help but notice the striking similarity to the alien from the so-called GalaxyCon stunt."

"Heh, yeah. Sarris is a piece of work, isn't he?"

"But--"

"Yeah, we have to be quiet, you know? In case they're filming," says Fred. They are still a good fifty feet from the door. A golf cart drives by, carrying four men in full scuba gear and pink tutus. 

Fred smiles. "That's gonna be a hell of a movie."

Brandon spends the next thirty seconds planning what he will say to the Commander when he sees him. " _I'm not going to tell anyone_ ," he'll say. " _I can keep a secret. But I think I deserve to know the truth. It is real. Isn't it_?" 

But as soon as they open the door and walk onto the set, Brandon forgets all of his plans. 

"I know. The human body is a thing of beauty," says Fred, even though Brandon is pretty sure he didn't say anything. 

There are at least thirty men milling around in front of them, naked save for leather loincloths. Brandon wants to look away but he can't. It must be because their heavily muscled bodies represent pure power, and power demands attention. He learned that in school, he thinks. Something about power leading to... something. He's forgotten. 

"They're so... shiny," he says. 

"Yeah, that's from the oil. They just mist it right on."

It must be too warm in here. Brandon's head is buzzing. He hears Fred chuckle and, out of the corner of his eye, sees him look to the left.

"Would you look at that."

Brandon is afraid to turn his head, but he does it anyway, before he has had time to process his fear. Commander Taggart's loincloth is adorned with beads, but otherwise he is attired -- or, not attired -- the same as the others. The Commander notices them and begins to walk over. The closer he gets, the more Brandon wants to turn and run away. There is too much skin and not enough uniform. It's all wrong. For a split second he thinks he feels Fred's hand press against the center of his back, and then the Commander is in front of him.

"Hey, you made it! Can you believe this getup?"

"Um. What--?" Brandon clears his throat. "What's it for?"

"No one told you? Oh, it's a great plot. See, I've been taken captive by the Queen of this planet. Uh, Kryzzx... that's the planet. And I'm sort of, well, sort of part of her harem. Man-harem. Of course it's not called that on the show. We stay a little vague on the details. You know how the censors are." He smacks Brandon on the arm. "So what do you think of the set? Did you get to see the bridge?"

"Yeah, it's... really great." Brandon is still feeling a little disoriented, but he knows he has to stay focused despite the heat in the room. "Um," he says, "I was wondering..." He closes his eyes for a moment and calls up the mental image of the _Protector_ flying through the sky above the convention center. "I was wondering," he says again, his voice stronger, "if you could explain why you claim the ship and the NSEA aren't real, despite evidence, which I saw with my own eyes, to the contrary."

Commander Taggart looks at Fred and then back at Brandon. "I can't explain it. I'm sorry, kid." He hooks his thumbs into the band of leather at his hips. "We're going to start shooting again soon, so I'd better get back in position. Are you going to stick around?" 

Brandon is stunned; he expected either the truth or a lie, but he's been given neither. He stares at the Commander for a few seconds and then looks at his watch. It's twenty three-minutes after six. "Um," he says, "I'm actually supposed to be home by seven, so... I probably should be going now."

"That's too bad. Well, I'm really glad you stopped by." The Commander looks sincere, and Brandon feels guilty for being even a little upset with him. 

"Yeah," says Brandon. "It was great of you to invite me. Thank you." 

The Commander nods and walks away. 

Brandon feels a wave of dizziness pass over him. "Uh. Thanks," he says to Fred, and stumbles out the door.

\---

**_Part 3: Enlightenment_ **

\---

"It's quite simple once you understand it. You just order the substituents using the Cahn-Ingold-Prelog rules and then rotate it so the fourth one is pointing to the back. And then--"

"How can you rotate it when it's on paper?" Julie asks, tracing one of the molecular diagrams with the tip of her finger. Her shiny black hair falls into her eyes and she brushes it away. "It's all... flat."

"Well, you rotate it in your mind," says Brandon.

"Huh. You're so smart. Are you sure you're only a freshman?" She smiles and licks her lips. She's been doing that a lot, Brandon has noticed. He wonders if he should offer her some Chapstick. 

"Um. Well, I did have a lot of AP credits, but technically I'm still a freshman." He points to the diagram again. "So, as I was saying, you--"

"Sorry, I think my brain is, like, full." Julie closes her notebook. "You know, my friend Sasha is having a party. Do you want to go? With me?"

Brandon went to a party during his first week at college. He was punched by a soccer player and had beer poured down his pants. "Um. I'm not really into parties."

"Yeah, you know... actually I'm not either. They're always so lame. Um, we could go back to my room. My roommate's at her boyfriend's place tonight."

She's not anything like Brandon's other friends -- he's willing to bet she's never seen a single episode of Galaxy Quest -- but he decides he should be open-minded. "Okay, sure. Do you have any good board games?"

"Board games? Are you serious?" Her smile fades. "You _are_ serious. God, geek boys are such a pain. I read this book once about talking to guys like you that said to be, like, really literal. So here it is: You're kind of a dork, but you're also super hot in that geeky kind of way. The reason I asked you to, um, go to my room with me is so we can, like," she pauses and makes a bizarre gesture with her hands, "you know, have sex."

"Oh," says Brandon. No one has ever wanted to have sex with him before. At least not as far as he knows. He tries to imagine Julie naked and is faintly disgusted. "Um. I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Julie raises her precisely shaped eyebrows. "And why is that?"

"I don't know." Brandon struggles for words. "I guess you're, um, not my type?" 

"Whatever. Not to be conceited, but I'm everyone's type. Have you ever even had sex before?"

She is asking so directly. Brandon just wants to run away and hide. He shakes his head. If he leaves now, he can be home in thirty minutes, as long as the 405 isn't too congested.

"Do you want to? I mean, ever?"

He shrugs and studies the grain of the tabletop. He's never understood why everyone else is so obsessed with the idea of sex. Other things have always seemed more interesting.

"Ooh, maybe you're repressed. I read about that in a book too. Here," she says, grabbing his hand and placing it on her breast. It's warm and squishy. "How about now?" Brandon shakes his head. He really, really needs to get out of here. He pictures his room at home, with the Commander smiling from the poster above his bed. "Ooh, I saw that little flash on your face."

"What?" Brandon pulls his hand away. "What are you talking about?" 

"No, put it back! It was totally working for a second, I saw it."

Feeling reckless, Brandon summons up a vision of the Commander again, this time in a leather loincloth. He feels a ripple of something -- something very good -- flow down his back and to his... "Oh my God," he says.

"What? Did you just have a breakthrough?" Julie looks him up and down. Her eyes widen. "Oh my God. You're gay!"

"How did you-- I mean... I don't know. I--" It is as if his entire life reassembles itself in his head in an instant; now all the pieces fit together perfectly. He hadn't even noticed the gaps before. "I think I am," he whispers. 

Julie claps her hands together. "Oh, this is so great! Do you think I should change my major to psychology? I should totally be a therapist. That was the coolest thing ever! I can't believe I did that."

She is talking too much. Brandon has had enough. "Um, I need to go, um, think about things," he says, pushing himself back from the table.

"Of course, yeah. I mean, you've just had this huge, like, brain leap. I'll see you in class tomorrow, okay?" Julie hugs him. "Oh, you're too cute! I should have known."

\---

He tells his mother he has a lot of studying to do and goes straight to his room as soon as he gets home, afraid that she will notice he has changed. In his room, he paces in a circle, then sits at his desk, then paces again. 

"I didn't know, I swear," he tells the poster of Commander Taggart. "I thought I looked up to you. I didn't know I was, you know, in love with you. Oh my God." He doesn't know what to do. He just needs more information. Information is the key to solving any problem. He sits down at his desk, launches a web browser, and types "gay" into the search bar. 

Six hours later, he stands up and staggers over to his bed. He has read everything in the first ten pages of Google hits, and also masturbated three times. Once while looking at a picture of a naked man, once while looking at a picture of a naked woman, and a third time again with the naked man to get the naked woman out of his head. It seems pretty clear-cut. He's definitely gay.

The last time something momentous happened in his life, he called Commander Taggart on the Vox to tell him. The Commander was thrilled to hear about Brandon's college scholarship. But Brandon doesn't think the Commander will be thrilled about this news.

Out of habit, Brandon pulls the Vox out from under his mattress, where he has taken to keeping it; it seems safer than dragging it around campus all day. If only there was someone on the other end who would understand. 

Maybe there is.

"The human body is a beautiful thing," he whispers, wondering if Fred really meant it. He flips open the Vox. "Fred. Um, Fred Kwan. Hello? This is Brandon Wheeger. I don't know if you even have a Vox, but I kind of wanted to talk to you."

"Hey, Brandon, what's shaking?" Fred sounds relaxed, but then he always does.

"Oh, you're there. I--" says Brandon, and then stops. He realizes he has no idea how to broach this particular subject. Fred waits in presumably patient silence. Finally, Brandon says, "So, do you remember when we were at the filming of episode 209 and there were all those men?"

"Heh. Yeah, that was a good one."

"Um. Did you mean what you said?"

"Well, let's see." Fred is quiet for a few seconds. "I don't know. What did I say?"

Brandon takes a deep breath. "You said that the human body is a beautiful thing."

"Oh. Sure I meant that," says Fred. "Of course. Don't you agree?"

"But... I mean, you said it while you were looking at, you know..."

"What? Men in loincloths?"

"Right." Brandon relaxes. Fred must realize now what he is asking. "Exactly." There is silence on the other end of the line. Brandon closes his eyes. "I'm gay," he blurts. "I just found out. I thought... I thought maybe you would understand."

"Oh, okay. I'm not gay," Fred says. Fear spikes through Brandon. He has just made a horrible mistake. "I'm bisexual," continues Fred, and Brandon's terror abates. "Actually, I guess I'm trisexual or something." Fred chuckles. "Because of course, Laliari isn't really female. I mean she is, but... Oh, shit. Can you hang on a sec?"

Brandon nods and then says, "Yeah." He wonders if Fred is saying that Laliari is a transsexual. He read about that earlier. There are so many things he hadn't known until tonight. 

A minute later, Fred is back. "Okay, she's cool with it. She trusts you."

"Um. What are you talking about?" asks Brandon. 

"Oh, right. So before I tell you, you have to swear to keep it a secret. It's super-duper important." Although Fred sounds more serious than Brandon has ever heard him, he still sounds a little like he has just taken tranquilizers. 

"Sure. I swear I won't tell... whatever it is." Brandon's heart begins to thrum in his chest. 

"Cool. So, Laliari is a Thermian. That's a species from this planet, well, former planet, somewhere near Orion I think? I really should know where, but every time she tells me I forget."

All those years ago, Katelyn said that Fred's girlfriend was an alien. He hadn't even considered that she could be right. Brandon holds perfectly still so he doesn't miss a single word. 

"So, they thought -- heh, this is really funny -- they thought the show was real, and they... they're incredible, they built all the stuff, even the ship." Fred continues on, telling the story of how the Thermians came to Earth to seek the crew of the _Protector_ , and how a group of actors ended up becoming real space explorers, even if just for a short time. He talks for a long time. When he is done, Brandon feels totally, completely at peace.

"So it's all real, but the show is just a show," he says, mostly to himself. No wonder he hadn't been able to figure it out. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Who? You mean Jason?" Fred hums. "Yeah, that's my bad. I was worried about Laliari. You know, you see all these things on TV... if you have an alien girlfriend it seems pretty likely that she'll end up in a cage in some lab. You know, like Area 51 or something. So I made everyone promise not to tell. I guess we could have told you, though, since you were sort of part of that whole thing. Sorry."

"Oh," Brandon says, and sits up straighter on his bed, years of frustration melting away. "It's okay. I get it." He looks down at the device in his hand. Flickering blue lines, like small, silent lightning bolts, jump from the center to the edges and back again. "Holy shit. They made the Vox, didn't they? The Thermians." He stares at it, awe-struck. He is holding a piece of alien technology. This is the most amazing thing that's ever happened to him.

"Yeah. They're pretty cool folks," says Fred.

\---

**_Part 4: Death_ **

\---

Brandon suspects that he is taking the revelation about his sexuality so well because of the much more earth-shattering revelation about aliens not only being real, but being even bigger fans of the show than he is. Over the next few weeks, he goes about his regular life in a sort of fog of happiness. It's like there is a cloud around his head that is made of joy and every time he breathes, it gets into his lungs where it enters his bloodstream and is pumped throughout his body. He loves his classes, he loves his university, he loves everything.

One day after chemistry, Julie tells him he's practically glowing. He smiles. "Yeah," he says, "life is pretty good."

"Hey, so I met this guy, I mean, this gay guy, and he's so cute. Can I set you up? He's really nice."

The cloud dissipates a little, and Brandon struggles to hold down a rising surge of anxiety. "Um. Maybe some other time?" he says. She rolls her eyes but nods. 

He waits for his bliss to return, but it doesn't, at least not completely. A week later, he realizes that the idea of the Thermians no longer seems so unbelievable to him. Of course it's still amazing, but it's a tangible kind of amazing, with the solid weight of reality behind it. Whereas the idea of being in a relationship -- with anyone, let alone a man -- seems about as likely as finding a velociraptor lurking in his closet.

He begins to have dreams about the Commander -- only it's Jason Nesmith, not the Commander anymore. Sometimes he's not even asleep when he has them; sometimes he's lying in bed, staring into the dark, letting his imagination run free. During the day, when the sun is shining on him, he can barely acknowledge his desires, but at night, he knows he wants the things he imagines to come true.

The fantasies begin to wear grooves in his mind, until they almost seem plausible, until he almost believes that eventually they have to happen. Fred is bisexual, so Jason must be too. One night he will call Brandon and confess his desires. Brandon will be so happy, but he will keep his cool and reveal that he feels the same way. Sex of some kind will ensue, somehow. The mechanics are still a little unclear to Brandon, no matter how many times he re-reads the books he checked out from the library. Some things, he assumes, one has to experience to understand.

The cloud returns, putting a haze of fantastical bliss over everything.

\---

It is a cool February morning. Brandon is cramming for a history test, because last night he opted for watching some of his favorite classic Quest episodes instead of studying. His mother moves his notebook to one side and puts a plate of bacon and eggs down in front of him.

"Mother, I was reading that!"

"You need to eat. How else will you feed that brain of yours?" she says, and pours him a glass of orange juice. Brandon picks up his fork and pokes at his eggs. "I assume you heard the news about the people from your show," she adds. 

Brandon's fork stops halfway to his mouth; the bite of egg slides back to his plate with a quiet plop. "What news?"

She looks pleased with herself. "I can't believe I know something that you don't. This is a first. Here," she says, picking up a folded section of newspaper and putting it on top of his notebook. Jason and Gwen smile up at him, hands clasped around a bouquet of some exotic-looking flowers. "Galaxy Quest Stars' Secret Jamaican Wedding," the headline says.

"Oh," he says, "that. Of course I knew about that." He is lying; he had no idea. His eyes sting and his cheeks feel hot. He puts down his fork. "I'm really not hungry. I have to go finish studying." He grabs his notebook with a shake that sends the newspaper gliding to the floor and runs up the stairs.

He is so stupid. So very, very stupid. How could he have gotten fantasy so confused with reality? He studies the poster of Commander Taggart, then looks around the room at his scale model of the _Protector_ , at his action figures, at the stacks of diagrams produced over years of Commander Fan Club meetings. He starts to laugh even though he still feels like he might cry.

He understands now. He's always chosen fantasy over reality. But that's not stupid, that's smart, because reality sucks. 

\---

The clock says 2:03AM. Brandon blinks, wondering why he is awake. There is a low sound, almost outside his range of hearing, and a circle of light appears on the floor. He sits up.

A hole opens up in the air and a blue-uniformed man drops through. As soon as he hits the floor, the circle of light extinguishes and Brandon is left to blink blindly in the dark, unable to see who has just materialized into his bedroom.

"Are you Brandon Wheeger?" the stranger asks. His voice is oddly formal, with an emphasis on all the wrong syllables. 

Brandon fumbles in the air where his nightstand should be until he finds the solid plastic of his lamp's switch. He twists his fingers and the room lights up with a comforting yellow glow. The man bears an eerie resemblance to Laliari; he has to be a Thermian. "Yes, I am," Brandon says. His whole body is shaking. 

The man's hair is black and straight, cut in an odd wavy line across his forehead. "I am Senior Requisition Officer Ziph, of the Thermian _Protector_. Tech Sergeant Chen has informed us that you would make an outstanding addition to our crew. If you would come with me, I will take you to the ship."

Brandon stares at Ziph. "What? Oh my God. You... you want me to-- Seriously?"

"Why would I not be serious?"

"Oh." Brandon swallows and tries to clear his mind. His thoughts are tripping over themselves. "So... I'll be on the ship. In space," he says.

"Yes, of course," says Ziph. "Barring the occasional journey to our new home world. We have selected an Earth-sized planet in a star system near Alpha Centauri."

"Oh. Nice neighborhood," mumbles Brandon. He would almost think this was a dream except that he is sure his mind could never come up with this. He is really being offered a chance to join the crew of the _Protector_. His nervousness turns into excitement, and he is about to accept when he remembers his mother and father. "Wait," he says. "My parents. Will I ever come back?"

"Hmm. We estimate it will be ten years before we are near this system again."

Brandon thinks. He can stay here, and go to chemistry tomorrow, and feel awkward when Julie points out the hot guy in the third row, and maybe eventually date someone, or not, as seems more likely. He can watch Galaxy Quest and live at home and one day he might get a job that pays well enough that he can move into an apartment, which he will share with some random stranger who snores and steals his leftover pizza.

Or, he could become a space explorer, and see far away galaxies and encounter new alien species. He might even be a sort of ambassador for the human race. And he could still be back on Earth before he turns thirty.

It's kind of a no-brainer.

"Do I need to bring anything with me? Clothes? Um. Toothbrush?" he asks, getting out of bed. He is wearing boxer shorts with ducks on them and a threadbare t-shirt. He doesn't look like a space explorer. "I should change."

Two minutes later, wearing the NSEA uniform his mother made him, Brandon Wheeger leaves Earth, his Vox clipped to his waistband. He hopes his parents will understand; he left them a note. If not, he will find some way to make it up to them when he gets back.

\---

**_Part 5: Rebirth_ **

\---

The Earth is beautiful. It is the size of a baseball, but hundreds of millions of miles in the distance. Jupiter looms large on the right side of the viewing window, its massive storm system just barely cresting on its horizon. 

As soon as they arrived, Ziph left Brandon alone, no doubt understanding that he would need some time to adjust to his new surroundings. He has been staring at the Earth for what seems like hours. He's sure he's made the right decision, but seeing his entire life suspended in front of him, so small and far away, has made him wistful. What if he never makes it back? What if in ten years he doesn't want to come back? What if he never sees another human being again?

A door slides open with a metallic whir behind him. He hears footsteps coming closer, but he can't tear his eyes away from that slowly shrinking ball of blue and white.

"Hey, Brandon," says Fred, coming to stand beside him. "That's some view, isn't it?"

The surprise is enough to make Brandon stop looking at the Earth. "Fred! You're here?" He blinks. "Wait. Oh, you were already here when you recommended me?"

"Yeah. I thought it seemed like you could use a change of pace."

"Thank you. So much," says Brandon. It doesn't seem adequate but he's not sure what else to say. "How long have you been on the ship? What about the show?"

"Eh, we took a hiatus a few days ago. Laliari got homesick a little. I figured it was only fair if we came here for a while."

"They told me it would be, like, ten years before we could go back." Brandon is pleased that Fred will be a part of the crew. Not that he was scared before, but he knows Fred. A familiar face will be good.

"Yeah, I know. It's all right, I could use a change of pace too. You'll enjoy Engineering. They're a great group of guys down there. Real smart."

Engineering? Brandon thinks he might pass out from excitement.

"Actually I lied a little," says Fred. "I mean, sort of. She's not really homesick. She... heh, yeah, she wants to see other people."

Brandon has to think for a bit before he understands. "Laliari broke up with you?"

"Nah, not exactly. The Thermians aren't really a monogamous sort of species. They tried, because they wanted to be like us -- or, you know, at least like us on TV shows -- but it didn't take. I guess being with one other person feels incomplete. That's what she told me. They naturally prefer triads or, uh, quartets or whatever. They're pretty wild once they're off duty, if you know what I mean."

For once, Brandon thinks he does. "What do the Thermians look like without their holo-projectors?"

"Kind of like an octopus but with, um, sort of layers of tentacles," says Fred. "You'll see." He glances over at Brandon, who is frowning. "Or, you know, you could just stick with the only other human on the ship. You'll figure it out."

Brandon looks out the viewing window. The Earth is about half the size it was when he arrived. "Yeah, I will."

A loudspeaker on the ceiling crackles to life. "Attention, crew," a voice sings. "This is Commander Mathesar. It is my great pleasure to welcome Tech Sergeant Chen and Crewman Laliari back to the ship, as well as to welcome Crewman Wheeger, who has joined us from Earth." The faint sound of applause filters through the walls of the room from elsewhere on the ship. "We are ready to travel to sector Z-23. All primary and secondary crew to their stations. Onward!"

The Earth is only a speck in the distance now. The ship rumbles. Brandon recognizes the sound of the hyperdrive engaging. There is a lurch, and everything that he has ever known shrinks away in a blur of light. Ten seconds later, it is replaced by the rest of the universe.

\- End -

 


End file.
